


don't let me go

by vol6kiwi



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Album: Made in the A.M. (One Direction), Angst, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Famous Harry Styles, Famous Louis Tomlinson, Fluff, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, One Direction Hiatus, One Direction Imagines, One Direction One Shot, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:55:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26209774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vol6kiwi/pseuds/vol6kiwi
Summary: "I'm scared that-""Things will change?" Harry asks softly, feeling his head, which feels like the sun. Louis only hums in response exhaustively, wiping his eyes as Harry reaches one hand behind him for a washrag, then covering it in cold water. He squeezes it out over the sink and holds it to Louis's forehead. The smaller boy melts at his touch over and over again, managing a few more words, filled with the exhaustion of his emotions."I'm scared you'll forget me."
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 63





	don't let me go

**Author's Note:**

> here it is !! i spent about three hours writing this (with distractions) tonight !! for my first published larry fic, it feels rushed, but i love the plot. i hope i did it some justice <3

"You need to talk to him, Lou." 

"Not a chance, Liam." 

His body, laying flat, resting in bed, eyes to the ceiling, focuses on his band mate's voice. His hair is matted to the hotel's white (and not particularly clean) comforter, but he sits in his boxers. However, he knows Liam too well to care, Liam knows him too well to care, so the two sit, eyes to the ceiling. 

It's been a day and a half since Harry proposed the idea of One Direction's breakup. At hearing the suggestion, Louis was quite surprised that the boys had agreed. His heart was in the pit of his stomach, while their's remained in their chests. With Zayn gone, he was sure they would pump at least another two albums out of their system. But one more? To throw away the memories he cherished so dearly? To toss them out the famous window that is One Direction? It scared him. It not only scared him, but horrified him.   
Harry had been writing his own music for months. Louis should've known. 

What horrified him more was that the boys had been doing the same. And sure, even now and then, Louis would write a song or two, but he felt (and knew) that they were shit. Most were about his boyfriend, and they couldn't be shit, right? The meaning couldn't be. 

"You need to text him. He's moping around the flat like a fool without you. Or at least come out of your room." Liam says, but when Louis sits up to protest, he's shut down once again. Louis's face is red. "Why should I, huh? Holy fuck, Liam, I can't believe you're agreeing with him!" He complains, "I could care less if he's "moping around". He put this upon himself." Louis kicks his legs back up onto the faded mattress and crosses them, placing his hands in his lap. "Louis, he was just putting it out there. With Zayn leaving, it's not the same and you know it." Liam interjects, sitting up with him on the edge of his bed. "We've been together for nearly five years. That's a long time." 

"Could be a longer time." 

"Is this really about the hiatus?" 

"Yes." Louis mutters in response. It's a flat out lie, and he knows Liam knows this. However, Liam just shrugs and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Trust me, Tommo, talking will do you two good, okay?" He suggests again, and he's gone out of the door. 

... 

The next few days are brought on slowly. Louis leaves his room the night after Liam talks to him, but ignores his boyfriend the whole day. The next, he says "morning", but is quickly off to the studio before him. The flat they share is left quiet, and when Harry tries to talk to him, he receives no answer. 

"I think A.M. has potential. It's comfortable." Niall states in the studio one day. "The same with Infinity. They have the right amount of intensity." The boys are lounging on the couch outside of the recording area, Harry next to Niall, while Louis sits in a far, quiet corner with Liam. He has begun to feel unwell as the days continued: sweating, throat dry, headaches---he's taken off his jacket and set it over his lap after going into the cabinets at the studio for pain medicine. 

Louis can feel is cheeks flushed in his boyfriend's presence, even if they aren't on speaking terms. When they make eye contact, the small, nervous smiles Harry gives in attempt for communication---they make Louis forget he's ever been mad at him. He almost wants to smile back and forgive him right then and there---just because it's Harry.   
When Louis finds himself zoned out at the conversation, feeling as if he could doze off right there and then, he glances to Harry. His hair has grown out, which Louis loves, because he can run his fingers through it. He loves playing with it when they sleep in the same bed, how it looks with his eyes. His eyes are focused on the conversation. Green and beautiful, Louis thinks. 

This is when Harry meets his eyes.

Louis wants to get lost in them more, but he suddenly remembers he's holding a grudge. He looks away, runs a hand through his hair, and feels Harry's frown in his confused, feverish heart. 

...

When the boys leave the studio that night, Louis is exhausted. His movements are sluggish compared to a long day in a small, hot room. He's walking in a pace behind his band mates in a cold sweat, rubbing his eyes once, because he feels like collapsing. Louis fantasizes falling into his bed at the flat where Harry can hold him, but he's switched rooms while they're on bad terms. He would love to be walking next to his boyfriend right now, but he knew he'd just have to settle for the subtle eye contact he was receiving. He started to notice that it was quite often, too. Every ten seconds, Harry would glace back at him. Louis, feeling feverish, just stared ahead, world in slow-motion, left with his own thoughts. 

"Lou?" Niall snaps his fingers to get his friend's attention. "You listening?"

Louis looks up at Niall like he's been slapped in the face. "Hmm?" He hums, "Yeah, I'm listening. What're we talking about?" He sluggishly asks, more focused on the stare he can feel from Harry. Liam jumps into the conversation. "Are you feeling okay, Tommo? You look wrecked."

"Wrecked? Thanks, Payno." Louis playfully rolls his eyes in exhaustion. "Yeah, just a bit tired." He shrugs, blinking tiredly. What he would give to sleep the unwell feeling in his body away right now. The boys nod, stopping in front of the van they were to get in. 

Liam is the first to climb in, then Niall, then Harry. When Louis climbs in, he wants to roll his eyes, but he doesn't. There are four seats in the back of the car. Niall and Liam have taken the two next to each other, while the only free one remained next to Harry. However, considering how exhausted he felt, he sat right next to Harry. When Liam and Niall start a rather loud conversation debating what they're going to eat for dinner, Harry engages only slightly with suggestions, but keeps his focuses on Louis, who his dozing off. 

"You can put your head on my shoulder, you know. Just because you're mad doesn't mean you deserve a cramped neck." He whispers in a low voice to a feverish Louis, who's attention snaps back to reality. He looks into Harry's eyes, doesn't say anything, but nods. He places his head on Harry's broad shoulder and shuts his eyes. "Your head is warm. Do you have a fever, Lou?" He asks softly in his ear, but Louis who wants to scream 'Yes, I do feel unwell, please hold me in bed, kiss my face, I miss you', shakes his head drowsily and coughs. "Let me sleep, Harry." He murmurs, feeling Harry's hand intertwine with his, but is too tired to notice. And suddenly, the van has gone quiet and Louis is asleep. 

... 

"Lou, wake up. We're here." 

Niall has been poking his shoulder for a minute straight, and Harry, who knows Louis is still fuming at him, is out of the car and on the way up to their flat. When Louis opens his eyes, he feels more like shit than before, sluggish and hot, yet shivering under his clothes. He picks his head up and glances to the seat next to him, but no Harry.

"You don't look great, mate. We stopped by a corner shop for some medicine." Liam adds, helping him out of the car. Louis nods sluggishly, desperately trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes so that he could walk straight. "Thanks, lads." He says as they walk to the front of the apartments. "I think I can take it from here." Louis adds. The two boys nod as they get in the elevator and hand him the paper bag from the store. They part ways on the third floor, where Niall and Liam leave to their flat, leaving Louis knowing that he has to face Harry, already feeling sick as it is. He spends the elevator ride leaning against the wall trying to think straight, coming up with a response to whatever Harry was going to have to say to him. 

He steps out of the elevator and trudges to the door of his flat slowly, bag in one hand, then the other on his door handle. When opens the door and he sluggishly walks into the flat, he's immediately hit with the familiar aroma of a herbal nighttime tea, but considering how blocked is senses are, almost doesn't notice it. He sets the paper bag onto the dining table and glances across the flat to the kitchen, where Harry's back faces him, pour hot tea into two mugs. However, feeling disgusting, he heads to their bathroom to shower. 

Louis shuts the door behind him and reaches in the shower to turn the hot water on. When he stops to look at himself in the mirror, he sees why Harry had been giving him worried glances all day. He looks like utter shit: heavy eye bags, sweat dripping down his neck and face, and a paler look to his skin. As he takes his jacket, then shirt off, a raw, unwell feeling surfaces in his body. He finishing stripping and steps into the hot shower. Louis gets halfway into scrubbing shampoo into his hair when he begins to doze off, letting his hands mindlessly caress his head. 

"Lou?" The familiar voice of his boyfriend snaps him out of his thoughts, but leaves him sluggish. He's too tired to ignore him, so he responds, washing the shampoo from his hair. "Hmm?" He hums loudly so that Harry can hear him. As he waits for an answer, he finishes washing and reaches to turn off the water. When he grabs a towel, he still feels disgusting. Louis wraps it around his torso after rubbing his hair dry. 

"I made you a cup of tea if you want it. You still feeling unwell?"

Louis opens the door and watches Harry gaze at him for a moment. He walks to their shared closet and picks up a sleep shirt and boxers, where his boyfriend follows him to. Louis only hums, but ends up responding because he's not in the mood to hold a conversation with him. "Yes, but it's just a headache. Got some pain medicine."

"I know. We stopped there when you were sleeping. Doesn't seem like a headache to me." Harry replies, leaning against the wall as Louis walks back into the bathroom to change, rather than in front of him. "Well, it is." The older boy responds. "So stop questioning me."

"Do you have a problem with me? What's bothering you?"

When Harry asks this suddenly, Louis can't gather the words to respond. Harry often confronted disagreements on impulse, which always left him speechless for minutes on end. What could he say? His boyfriend's whole life was being impulsive. Louis pulls on his shirt, wiping sweat from his warm forehead, then his boxers. When he finally makes out words, they were slow. 

"I don't want to talk about this right now." He says, opening the door and heading out of the room to the dining table to take the medicine picked up from the corner shop. Harry follows reluctantly. "I'm sorry," He rubs his temple, stopping at the table, "But too bad, because I do. Why are you so upset?" 

Louis reaches a hand into the bag and pulls out a clear bottle which showcases green gel pills. He unscrews the cap, then meets Harry's gaze. "I feel like shit. Why are you making me talk about this right now?" He asks, opening his palm to pour out two pills. Harry blinks, but holds his gaze, freezing his boyfriend in his tracks before he can rush to get a cup of water to down them. "Because I love you. The hiatus was just a suggestion-" 

"But it was real." Louis interrupts him, "You want a break." He says places the clear bottle onto the wooden table. "You've wanted one forever." He adds. When Harry's gaze shifts downward and goes to shake his head, Louis rubs his temple. "Don't disagree. I know you, Harry. You push and push until you can't anymore, and when you can't you back away."

"That isn't true." Harry interjects, raising a brow and shutting his eyes. "I don't back away. We've been going at this for five years-"

"Jesus! You sound just like Liam!"

"Liam's right."

Louis shakes his head and begins to walk to the kitchen. However, Harry blocks his path. The older boy rubs his eyes and looks down. "Don't push my buttons, Harry. I'm serious." He says, pushing past him to fill a cup of water. Harry follows him as he pulls out a pitcher. "You've already pushed mine. You're angry because I suggested a break, and now you feel betrayed when the boys agree?" 

"We all know it's not going to be a break. That's why you suggested the fucking thing, Harry." Louis says, downing the two pills and a sip of water. He watches Harry visibly swallow. "Don't deny it." He adds, leaning his back against the counter. For a moment, he wonders why it's taking Harry so long to respond, but deep down, he knows. He has caught Harry's truth and revealed it to his face in shame. Harry holds another gaze with him.

"Is this really about the hiatus?" 

Louis's heart stops quite quickly, feeling a flash of heat through his whole body. He clenches his jaw, feeling a familiar cold sweat as Harry moves closer to him, not breaking eye contact. The boy's eyes begin to glaze over, feeling a lump build in his throat. "Fuck you, Harry." He visibly swallows, struggling to keep his voice from breaking. He knows Harry notices he's hit where the real meaning is. "Well, is it, Lou?" He demands, though his tone has softened. "You can talk to me."

"Yes. It is."

"It's not."

"Fuck, Harry, it is!" Louis shouts back as his voice begins to break, tears building in his eyes. Feverish, he lets out a wavering sigh. Harry sighs also, taking a step closer to him. Instead of a demanding, low tone, his words come out soft and quiet. "Just talk to me." He says.

Whatever calmness Louis had is gone when he lets his tears flow. What leaves his mouth next is an exhausted, unwell sob that breaks his boyfriend's heart. Louis hears Harry mutter a quick "c'mere", taking him into his arms, taking in the scent he hasn't deeply smelled in four days. His cologne enters his brain and imprints itself again as he lets out weak sobs into his chest. Harry gently runs a hand through his boyfriend's hair, his other rubbing circles onto his back. "I know, I know, Lou." He mutters as the older boy dampens a spot on his shirt. 

Louis's arms are tucked into his chest, managing out various "I'm sorry"'s to Harry as he cries. As time passes, they become softer and more exhausted until Harry looks down at him. Louis meets his gaze. "I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"About---about splitting up." Louis manages out, followed by more soft cries as he tucks his head about into his boyfriend's chest. Harry nods and kisses his temple. "I know. It's scary to think about."

"I'm scared that-"

"Things will change?" Harry asks softly, feeling his head, which feels like the sun. Louis only hums in response exhaustively, wiping his eyes as Harry reaches one hand behind him for a washrag, then covering it in cold water. He squeezes it out over the sink and holds it to Louis's forehead. The smaller boy melts at his touch over and over again, managing a few more words, filled with the exhaustion of his emotions. 

"I'm scared you'll forget me." 

Harry goes silent at his words, placing a hand, to his cheek and bringing it to the leveled angel to his face. Words like these were at no doubt sensitive to him, and Louis knew this. In fact, when he's not speaking, his boyfriend immediately feels guilty. But before he can say anything, Harry pulls him in closer. "You think I'd ever forget you, Lou? Jesus, those words scare me." He murmurs, Louis hearing his voice break over his shoulder. "I love you, I love you, I love you so much, I could never forget you. I should have talked to you more when I proposed the idea."

Louis shuts his eyes. "You're just so talented, Harry." He murmurs in his chest. "I don't want the band to take a break because I can't stand being away from you." He adds. "It's not you're fault. I'm a stubborn person, you know that?"

Harry chuckles low and wipes a tear from his eye before facing him. "No," He grins, "never knew that at all." He says, making his boyfriend return an exhausted smile. He buries his face in Harry's warm chest, taking in his cologne again. There was always something about his scent that mesmerized him, pulling him into a deeper embrace of emotions. Harry smiles at this. "Let's get you to the couch and I'll fix you another cup of tea? You looked exhausted and the last cup is cold." He said, taking the rag off of Louis's head, which still felt as if it was burning. The older boy hummed in response as Harry gave him a quick kiss to his forehead and helped him to the velvet sofa. 

"Take off your shirt, Lou, you feel feverish."

"Hope this isn't some sneaky way to get it on with me tonight."

"Oh, shut up."

Harry watches him take off his shirt, then shuffles back to the kitchen and puts on another kettle. "If you weren't feeling well today, we could've stayed in." He called from across the flat, wetting a fresh rag under cold water. Walking back to the couch, he leaned over it and placed the new washrag over his boyfriend's forehead, who shivered at the touch. "I was upset at you, remember?" He tries to smile, but feels like shit too much to laugh. Harry frowns and kisses his cheek. "You need to rest after this cup, okay? We can get in the bed." 

Louis only nods and hums in satisfaction, because these are the words he's wanted to hear since he arrived at the studio. He turns on his side and reaches for a blanket with a soft green, velvety touch, which Harry snatches and tucks him in with. When the kettle begins steaming, he walks to it and pours a mug of herbal nighttime tea, bringing it over. "It's hot, so be careful." He says, handing it to him.

"You are such a parent."

"Bug off, I made you tea."

"Just joking with you, Hazza. I love you." He murmurs, waiting a moment before taking a sip. Harry admires how careful he is with the cup. Louis, not to Harry's surprise, finishes the tea quite quickly, setting it down on the wooden coffee table. He hums sleepily when Harry gently lifts the blanket off of him. "Sleepy now?" He asks softly in his boyfriend's ear, picking him up in his arms. Louis only nods and hums once again, tucking his head in the crook of Harry's neck. "Very." He murmurs exhaustively, eyes floating shut and snapping back open when Harry looks at him and chuckles. 

It isn't long before he dozes off again, followed by a cough when Harry lays him in bed. He takes his temperature, (which is a whopping 103.4), and decides he should go without a blanket for thirty minutes. He readjusts the rag on Louis's head as he lets his eyes float shut and shifts into Harry's neck, breathing softly. "Tomorrow we'll both stay in, okay? No studio." Harry says softly, but loud enough for Louis to hear. The smaller boy only nods and hums.

"I love you, Hazza."

"I love you too, Lou."

**Author's Note:**

> that's the end !! i hope you all enjoyed this larry oneshot :) i haven't really edited it, and it's 3 am, so you can understand. follow my twitter for harry/louis content: @kiwivol6_ <3 have an amazing night, day, whatever timezone you live in ♡


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